


Finally Home

by Rjslpets



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: A Productive Life, AU, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 12:53:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8057182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rjslpets/pseuds/Rjslpets
Summary: So Daughterofthesilvermoon and I were chatting and I said it would be interesting to see a story that had Steve do something else. She agreed but said that she didn't know of such a story, so I wrote a drabble





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DaughteroftheSilverMoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughteroftheSilverMoon/gifts).



Steve smiled at Sam Wilson. He really liked the counselor and they ran together on the Mall at lunch time most days. Well, they sort of ran together; Steve made a game of how many times he could lap Sam and Sam made funny comments. Then they would shower and grab lunch with Jenny, Mike and Chris. Generally a working lunch as they worked out therapy needs and juggled schedules. They were the main therapists for the Center and there was a strong need and never enough time or money. The new coordinated care approach was a lot of time for the therapy team, but it allowed them to anticipate problems faster and refer people to the main clinics or hospital for more extensive treatment. Mike and Sam ran the group therapy sessions; Chris mostly was physical therapy but that gave her an insight into problems the others might miss. Jenny was the psychiatrist and did one-on-one therapy.

As for Steve? He had gone back to school on the GI Bill after the New York invasion. It had taken the Army awhile, but, with the help of the veterans groups, Steve had gotten access to the education benefits for veterans. He had gone to school and gotten a BFA and then went on to a master’s in art therapy. Thanks to the serum, he had managed to get everything done in 4 years and now he worked at the Center. He gave art therapy classes in a mixture of media. Most of the guys liked the painting and collage classes, but there was always a few who needed something more physical. So, once a month Steve would do a sculpture class. He also helped vets identify classes and led them on tours of the Smithsonian art museums.

He never really thought about Captain America anymore, although he still practiced with the shield. The only times were when one of the staff called him in. For some reason, that Steve could never understand, many of the vets liked to talk to him. When someone was really down, having ‘Cap’ to talk to made them feel better. Steve had spent most of his life struggling to find his place in the world and here, helping others to come back from the horrors of war, he had found a true home.


	2. A Tiny Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another what if for Steve and this one has a dog!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by a discussion in comments to the first chapter with rebelmeg
> 
> Here is a picture of Mahoney (although Bella is a bitch)  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Bella_the_Saint-Hubert_Bloodhound_relaxes.jpg

After the ice, after the invasion, after the farewell, Steve got on his motorcycle and went on a road trip. He washed up in Whatcom County in Washington State and that changed his life. He wasn’t looking for anything life-changing – he had had too much of that. He was actually just looking for food in the small restaurant; one he had picked for the name, Tony’s Tavern. He was settled in the corner when a group attracted his attention, they were men and women wearing similar enough gear to mark them as members of some kind of team. But they didn’t have the air of military or any kind of professional first responder group; they were more informal.

Extending his hearing was easy enough and he was lonely. To hear the friendly chatter of a group who obviously knew each other and worked at least informally together was a kind of balm for that. After a while, he figured out that they were some kind of rescue group for the mountains around the state and even across the border in Canada. Relaxing after a training run, they were alternating between serious dissections of the run and joking with each other as people do who work in adverse conditions together. It made Steve ache to hear it.

And then a thought occurred to him, a tiny thought that lingered long after he left the small town and the tavern and rode off to see the more of the country. The thought persisted, popping up as he wandered through the Rockies. It tapped insistently on his consciousness when news of an earthquake came up on the news. It was responsible for him driving to a town in Colorado and offering to help when one of the worst avalanches in history buried people and buildings. He had dug in, using his strength and stamina in ways that were different from battle. This felt… _clean_ as he battled snow and wind and pushed on. Something inside, that little thought, grew clear and bright and said, “THIS, yes, this…”

So he stayed in the tiny town and joined the local search and rescue. Time passed and Steve got a cabin and a dog. It came out that way, a cabin and a dog, although he always thought the dog should come first. Mahoney was a bloodhound, trained in search and rescue. When Steve got him, Mahoney was actually the more experienced one on the team. They travelled the world, giving aid, finding people, both alive and dead with a group of people and dogs who became his clan. And when they weren’t searching, Mahoney would sit with his head on Steve’s lap and stare at him with the world-weary, infinitely compassionate eyes that all bloodhounds have and convey without words that Steve was his and they were where they should be. And Steve was home.


End file.
